Stockholm Syndrome
by The Brat Prince
Summary: Four couples make the break and have to cope with their failed relationships, newfound feelings, and the crazy hijinks of supportive friends. Postprologues they spiral into a wacky comedy drama that forces them to realize life isn't quite so bad. Ch 2 up.
1. Ron and Luna

**Stockholm Syndrome**

The First Prologue: Luna and Ron

By: Jondy Macmillan (who doesn't own a thing)

A/N: This is the first of four prologues that begin the story. Each of them is about how a couple dissolved. They are between Luna and Ron, Harry and Hermione, Pansy and Draco, and Padma and Seamus. And, I should mention that they're kind of trippy. The prologues are to explain the feelings that each character felt towards the other during their split. The narrative following won't be quite so out there. I can't guarantee that these are the couples that the story will contain however, and I can't guarantee that some of the main couples won't be slash. In fact I can guarantee that Harry or Draco or both may have a tendency towards boys. Mm, anything else that's important before you read? I dunno. shrugs Go read. And review, naturally.

3

Scared of feeling, you looked at me, head cocked slightly, trace of a grin on your lips. I watched the way your tiny fingers toyed with the soft ends of your hair, glossy and brilliant in the dying sunlight, twisting it this way and that. With your legs spread, stance steady as any guy, a guy with milk white thighs and slender calves, you looked like you were posing for a filthy magazine, and damned proud. If only we could do something about those clothes. The school girl gig had always turned me on. I still wanted you, true, the way I wanted any other living organism that stood on two legs and had breasts larger than an A cup. Merlin, that description fit some of my male best friends.

_Smug and confident, broad shouldered and ready.__ I hated the way you gazed at me, as though you had experienced me through your eyes alone. Your lips were plush, and appalling though it was, I was sickened when kissing anyone but you, with their needy tongues and eager hands. Funny how yours had always been the most frenetic, but I never minded. Fashionably lacking, adorable but in no way visually appealing, and yet aesthetically attractive in some subtly hidden way, your magnetism was only one thing I liked about you. I tried my damndest to convince myself it was the only thing. I cheated on you many times, but surely not as many times as you had betrayed me. _

I hated that look in your bright, wide eyes, not trusting, but accepting, always guarded but so very open. Did I understand it at the time? I knew that you knew I wouldn't stick around, that I wasn't to be believed when it came to love, which in itself was a concept you only half assumed existed anyway. At the time, I don't think it bothered me much. Silly little girl, you knew what you were getting into, but then again, it wasn't like you could stop yourself. Sitting complacently there, all high and haughty, cheekbones flushed in expectation. How were you to know that it really was the fabled 'love'?

_I've never been so enchanted with a single person before, never wanted to have them beside me, never wanted to hear their voice so desperately. Emotion wasn't my forte, and you were a master of playing my novice heart against me. Still, I doubt you were anything more than a fling._

All you did know was that when you fell in love, it couldn't be with me. I saw the accusation there, beneath the want, beneath the shield of your pretty long lashes. Already you thought me a bastard, when I hadn't yet crossed you that you knew of. But the stories were enough. I had the extremely dubious honor of becoming the idealized man-wolf that old mammies warned their daughters of, in your mind.

_The knock at the door drew your attention from me, the way it always did, and I heard the whispered conversation, barely. 'I miss you too. Tonight, I promise'. I remembered the words, the things people told me about you. I would barely open my mouth before they told me of the dates and adventures you'd been on with various girls, when we barely ever kissed. I'd been told of the great treks you took, North and South to see some beautiful girl, and I wondered why you couldn't venture out just once to see me. _

Weren't you shrewd?

_And even though I struggled, I still couldn't stop myself from seeing you. I couldn't stop the happiness welling up in my chest every time you smiled at me. _

Insightful though you were, I still liked the way you crumbled into my arms, the way you malleably maneuvered yourself into subordination, no matter how much I fought to give you control. So I'm lazy, what of it? Dominance has never plagued me.

_My inexperience didn't seem to bother you. So often, I was forced to take charge. But…was that what you wanted, or were you just too bored to bother continuing. _

Every once in a while, I wanted to lead you, to harness you. But only every once in a while.

_I wanted to know your every angle, the very slope of your nose and the arch of your eyebrows and the pitch of your voice. _

Every touch you bestowed upon me was fleeting, but your kisses lingered.

_I wanted to feel you, and I was disgusted with myself. _

I could taste sea salt and sugar on my lips long after you left.

_Songs and stars haunt me now, and perhaps the crashing of the waves and the chilled taste of lattes only partly finished. _

There were other girls, of course. I could hear your voice chide me, accuse me, and that only made me want them more. Their lips their curves their soft, fresh skin. No matter how you tried to guilt me, I wouldn't be deterred. Yet I jumped at the chance to see you again, and perhaps that was my first clue.

_I wanted to talk to you, but you only gave me the answers I wanted when I used the same scolds and threats female kind has been using for years. And I've always hated acting like a girl. _

Falling doesn't necessarily involve one party.

_Still, you have me under your influence. _

Landing hurts more when it involves two. Maybe I'm the one who's afraid.

_I hope you're unhappy just like me. I hope you're euphoric just like me. I hate that you're my first love, even while I revel in it. _

Luna. I need you.

_Ron, do you really belong to me? Just say yes once. Please. I'll believe anything you tell me. I don't care if it's true. _

No.

EndR+R


	2. Seamus and Padma

**Stockholm Syndrome**

The Second Prologue: Padma and Seamus

By: Jondy Macmillan (who doesn't own a thing)

A/N: This one was kind of hard to write, because all the emotions that are supposed to go into it are so muddled. I think I started out trying to convey all the love, the pain, and the total disillusionment that Padma was feeling from all the lies Seamus told her. At the same time, Seamus really isn't a horrible guy, he just did mean the things he said while he was with her, infatuated with her, but now he just thinks she's horrible. And what's gone on between them has slowly drained any good feelings that she felt towards him, all that's left is desperation. It's very sad. I don't think I did a good job…the next prologue between Draco and Pansy should be good though.

You stood there with tears in your eyes, trying to disguise all the alibis that had crumbled at your feet. Tennis shoes have long since replaced the high heels that you would never wear for me. I wanted to see a skirt graze against your thighs, but you'd only let him see you wear it. I hated watching you be with him. You claimed you were just his friend. I always thought you were really just his surrogate lover. He destroys everything he touches, I think. He's lower than pond scum, lower than you. Well, maybe not you.

_I watched a single stream of tears spill from your lovely lashes, and I couldn't find it in me to cry. Since that day, the tears have rained, poured, hailed down. But I didn't understand what I was losing, I knew in the back of my mind, my brain was screaming, shrieking no. All I could think was that you didn't want me, so damned if I wanted you. But I do, I do. I hear your voice saying 'million Padma, face value?', or 'you're good people' in that adorable childlike tone you'd use to make me smile. I want to hear your voice again, even for a second. I threw it away for him, I guess. Do I love him?_

You didn't want me. I dealt with that rejection the best I knew how. I rejected you.

_I want to spend every second of every day with you. I want to be with you. They say when you love someone, you know. I knew. At the end, I knew. And that's why it hurt so badly. _

I said I loved you and I lied. Except I didn't. You were the one who told me that if you loved something, you had to let it go. So I've let you go, forever. My pain has vanished with the wind, and as sad as it makes me that you still feel hurt, it's better if I stay away. Stay away from me, stay away from my friends.

_So desperately, I want to sit across the table from you as you gently hold my hands and gaze into my eyes and tell me I'm worth something. I want to share that awkward easing around of our feelings that we always played at. I want to sit in an airport again and watch the military channel on those stupid muggle picture machines you called a telly with you and listen to you talk about ex girlfriends so I can be oh so jealous again. I want to call you brain damage and hear all those times you snuck fire whisky out of Hogsmeade, and I want drunk visits near midnight. I want my friends to be your friends, and your friends to not just be your friends the way you say they are now. I want you to care about me again. You said you would. You swore you would. Your promises are cheap. _

Did you really think we could be friends? You live in a fantasy world.

_Remember that time you went to the Weird Sisters concert? I wanted to go, so badly. You even asked me if I did. I said no. I was stupid. I thought that holding on too tightly would make you leave me faster. I wanted to keep you close, I wanted to see your smile every waking moment. How desperate I sound now reflects how desperate I was to keep our relationship, even though now, in the end, I was the one who let it go. _

I'm already over you.

_Why did I say yes? I'll never get over you._

Now I sit and laugh with my friends about the one who got away, about you. Except I don't call you that, I don't even think of you as that. You're just the stupid, silly girl who fucked around with my heart and lost the best prize of all; me.

_I'm so sorry._

I call you the same derogatory names I call all my exes.

_I'm so sorry._

I flirt with new girls, prettier girls, more experienced girls.

_I'm so, so sorry._

And I've forgotten you.

_Please. Please. _

There aren't enough words in the world to describe how much I don't hate you, even though I do.

_Forgive me._

I'll never forgive you. To top it all off, you stole my best friend away in the mix. I remember the nights he and I would spend hours wasting time, drinking and laughing. You turned him into something I couldn't accept. You made it so that he had no problem molesting one of my best friends.

_He kissed her once! It wasn't like she told him no, and it wasn't like he took advantage of her invite to stay in her room. Dean's a good guy. _

Don't lecture me on my own friends.

_Don't lecture me on mine._

You know what, stop fucking harassing me.

_What?_

You heard me. Leave me alone. I don't want you. I don't need you. Get lost.

_But you said…you said. You told me I was worth something. _

Well, I guess I was wrong. You're not.

End-R+R


End file.
